Tag Archives: Smarty

Smart, Sexy and … Shy?

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Damn. The first two really work for me… the last one… not so much.

His vocabulary is exceptional… but try as I might to flirt with him… he goes silent every time I do. He called last night and I finally just asked.

J- Are you shy? Or just not that into me? What gives?

He’s shy. Shy enough he can’t flirt back with me… so shy that when I try to flirt with him, he clams up. This from the man that knows Limestone is native to England. Smarty Pants is shy???

Awww. Bummer. Yet he continues to text me and call me every day- he’s certainly persistent, most definitely interested…

and it’s almost Tuesday…though not “almost” enough.

So I try again… shocker… I love a good hold out.

J- A tie every day? Really? That means you have one on right now… is it blue?

Nothing… just silence…

J- Come on… Don’t make me beg…

SP- The tie came off a while ago, but it’s diagonally striped tie light blue, chocolate brown & khaki.

Lord. Have. Mercy.

Not only does he wear nice ties… he knows how to spell khaki.

:)

Only Girl

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So I have different rules for different men, we all do. It frustrates us just as much as it frustrates the men who try to understand which rules apply to them.

Except for the men that don’t care. Those are my favorite. Tragic- but true. Make me feel like the only one you want- but for crying out loud, don’t profess your undying love. Relax- be cool- and don’t arm me immediately with your deepest desires & innermost feelings.

Sinful inspires me to abandon my morals…. or at least be on top of my game. Deliciously unavailable and stealthy. Enough to make you get on your knees and thank God for the male species. Devastatingly handsome with far too much knowledge for one man.

Smarty has me completely tied in knots. Grinning like a lunatic every time I see his number on my phone. So smart- and my favorite kind of kiss. Burn the house down hot… and I’m intrigued because I know it’s going to be so much fun. No immediate threat of eternal devotion- its purely intelligent temptation. He’s smarter than me, and its insanely attractive. I’ve learned how to capitalize mid sentence purely to keep up with his incredible text messages. He’s successful, smart & interesting. Bonus round? He kisses like a porn star. Handful of hair-numb lips-pray to God sort of kiss. Not your garden variety smart guy kiss… but just the type to get the wheels turning. If that’s amazing… I wonder… Hmmm.

So why didn’t it work with the boyfriend, who was only TOO willing to give me any & everything I want?

Because it was too fucking easy. In the same way men don’t call the girls who go home with them on the first night, women aren’t excited by the over-eager men of the world either. If it’s that easy for me, it’s been easy for everyone. Nothing at all about that excites me. I want the same thing every girl wants…

What I can’t have.

If I have to work overtime, I’m inspired. I’m sexually charged and verbal. I reach for the red bra & panties instead of the white stuff. I shave, wax, paint, and pay attention to your weaknesses so I can capitalize on them.

But if you’re quick to drop to your knees, profess your love and moan my name… offering me a captivity band… while talking about picket fences and baby names…

I’m slipping my shoes on… the keys are in my hand- and I’m OUT.

I prefer Smart & Sinful- and I don’t breed in captivity.

Frustrated

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I worked this afternoon in a cute little St. Pauli’s girl shirt, since today was our local Oktoberfest. It was somewhat miserable to wear, to be honest. White polyester, low cut and ruffly. Like a mini-greenhouse beer maid. Cute to look at, not to inhabit. Ugh.

One missed call.

Fuck.

The worst kind of missed call.

As tempted as I am to answer it, I can’t… I’m at work. DAMN IT.

Radio Silence. I toe the line carefully because I can’t fucking stand the stalking sensation I get every time I see Mr. Boyfriend’s number on my phone.

It’s so incredibly frustrating and it’s not supposed to be like that. It’s supposed to be exciting. The feeling I get when I see Sinful or Smarty flashing across the screen on my phone. Heaven. Pure adrenalin frosted excitement. Almost as good as hearing their voices.

Being tantalized is better than any drug. Women live for these moments- and they are what keep us in love with you. You have to wow us in the beginning or it’s doomed. If we don’t miss you, think about you or want you constantly…. it’s doomed.

Being frustrated is certainly similar to being tantalized. I’m afraid I confused the two when it came to the shark. I love Sinful for the simplicity he offers, without all the bullshit player attitude I got from the Shark. Sinful isn’t afraid to say he missed me- he’s a man-Shark. I love the thought of progressive Sharks. There’s no telling how good he could be.

Which is where Smarty comes in. I woke up to his text messages… some of them platonic, and some of them downright racy…

S- I hope you’re serving for Trivia this week.

J- Oh hell- I hope so too, the bar sucks that night and I’ll do anything to get away from the whipped cream.

S- I don’t know, I’d love to see you with the whipped cream.

Hello and good morning. I’m sleepy tired- having come home frustrated and annoyed… couldn’t write anything but whiny bullshit, and had gone to bed too late. Tired. Whiny…but wide awake now. Smarty wears cashmere… which I know because he’d just gotten his sweater back from the dry-cleaners. I’m a cashmere whore and I treasure my sweaters. I’m horrified I sprayed him with whipped cream.Blah blah blah… the reality?

He’s a shark- I know it- and I’m damn entertained. Craving something sinful and enjoying the smart man who’s busy tantalizing me with perfect spelling & punctuation. <shiver> I am such a geek sometimes.

A damn satisfied geek, for a woman who just shook the boyfriend to end all…stalkers.